Infinity Is A Waiting Room
by minismores
Summary: Things spiral out of control for two almost ordinary girls, as they find out secrets about their city and themselves. Modern AU, Korra/Asami exclusively so far.


Title: Infinity is a Waiting Room

Author: minismores

Rating: T, then M

Summary: Things spiral out of control for two almost ordinary girls, as they find out secrets about their city and themselves. Modern AU, Korra/Asami exclusively so far.

Notes: This was originally a bunch of smaller chapters, hence all the breaks, and I've cleaned it up a significant amount, but for the most part, it's just as raw as when I typed it out (and gave up) in November.

PRELUDE

* * *

A dark, seedy bar greeted Asami as she exited the car, adjusted her too short dress. Lee was right behind her, adjusting the straps of her own little dress, breathing into her ear as she locked the door and they started walking across the street, "Doesn't this look exciting? I've never been to this part of town."

Asami had never been here, either. They were both girls from the good part of town, suckled and raised on diamonds and furs, and this was farther from home, class-wise, than any of the cities out of the country that they'd been to. They'd gone to Paris, Oxted, Brussels, but only ever the market district, only ever the clean streets and people who looked like them, sounded like them. Their families ran in the same circles, so they'd known each other for a few years, and Lee was the one who suggested this walk on the wild side. And it was definitely the wild side, Asami mentally noted, as she noticed a drunk man curled up on the sidewalk, a few teenagers slouched against the wall, smoking cigarettes, eyeing them from under their hoods and baseball caps, a rat running out of an alley. They walked over the drunk, then met the bouncer, a large, burly Earth Nation man wearing a brown shirt, jeans, and boots, who they gave their .

He peered at them, then growled, "Go in. First drinks are free, it's ladies night."

Lee stayed close to Asami, fingers brushing the back of her bare arm, as they entered, and made a beeline for the bar. The bar tender was a slim woman, wearing a purple oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up so her arms were bare, and slim black pants. Her eye makeup was dark and she approached them without them having to flag them down.

"What can I get you?" She asked.

They looked at one another. They were used to a wine selection, perhaps a menu if the waiter had not memorized the entire list, but they hadn't known that they had to have something ready.

Asami asked, "Recommend something?"

She smirked, "You're going to love it."

The bartender turned away from them for a few minutes, then came back with a fishbowl filled with a light green liquid, little colorful pebbles at the bottom.

"They're that candy, Nerds," the patron to her left whispered, seeing her face. He was a handsome young man, deep eyes set in a serious face made up of high cheekbones and the long nose of someone Fire Nation. Her mother had been from there, she suddenly thought. It'd been years since she'd thought about what Nation she was from. Did it matter when she wasn't there?

Two bright red straws stuck out of the fish bowl, like something from a big gulp, and the girls leaned over for a drink. Asami sipped and made a surprised sound at the taste. It was light, sweet, and very flavorful. It was only after she swallowed that she detected the slight sting of alcohol. It reminded her of the summers spent on tropical beaches.

"That's really tasty," Asami said to the bar tender. She smirked, "I know."

She sipped on the drink some more, even as Lee ordered another drink, this time something called, "A whiskey sour." She'd probably heard it on TV, because she looked just as confused as Asami as they watched the preparation of it. Lee put down a hundred Yuans bill, and was given change, just as the lights overhead went out. Asami jumped in reflex as the young man stood, blocking what little light from the far end of the room, where a stage sat, was available, then relaxed as he turned and winked, "You should get closer to the stage."

He walked to the stage, then jumped onto the stage, and walked casually to stage left.

An older gentleman walked out, wearing an orange shirt and brown pants, tattoos in blue and red covering most of his rangy upper body as he said, in what seemed to be a long-standing joke, "Hey!"

The bar responded enthusiastically, waving and screaming. They took the opportunity to slip off the stools and head towards the stage, just as he'd said.

He put his arms down at his sides in the universal gesture for peace, then said, "Everybody knows it's Saturday, right? Well, this Saturday, you're going to have more than some no-good drunk bastards here. Give it up for 'The Fire Ferrets.'"

Either everyone was too drunk to process exactly what he said, or Asami and Lee weren't drunk enough, because they looked at one another, then whispered, "The Fire Ferrets?"

The Fire Ferrets stepped out, a band of three people, and a few other people who quickly set up the drums for a young man with curly black hair. The man from earlier, with the dark eyes, was setting up a black guitar, and a Water Tribe boy was at a blue guitar. Finally, a Water Tribe girl came out, dressed in tight jeans, beat-up maroon Converse, and a tank top that exposed the sexiest flat stomach Asami had ever seen. She was handed another guitar, red this time, and adjusted the strap so it dug in between her breasts and plugged in the amp. Her hair was long, at least as long as Asami's, and she had an Earth Nation Rumbler baseball cap on.

"Jesus," She murmured, licking her suddenly dry lips.

"What?" Lee hissed in her ear.

Asami rolled her eyes, "What do you mean 'what?' She's really sexy."

Lee looked at the lead singer again, then shrugged. Asami knew their tastes were different but how different could they be if Lee didn't see how gorgeous this woman was? She just wanted to push her flat on her back and no hands barred fuck her. She'd fucked other people before, of course, she'd fucked senators daughters and sons, millionaires, future billionaires to be truthful, people her father approved of and people he didn't, maybe even one of his future enemies, but never the desire to simply take someone like this had come to her. She took a drink from the fishbowl again, trying to keep her desire at bay, then nearly moaned as the woman stepped confidently to the microphone, pressing the toes of her sneakers to the stand, and murmured, "I'm Korra, and we are The Fire Ferrets."

Her voice – Korra's voice, Korra, Korra, Korra, God, what a beautiful name - was low, almost mumbled, accented – harsher tones, sharpened vowels, like sharp rocks in her mouth, thin and stinging, hard to hear with her words clanging together – and Asami was so close to the stage she could see the long, black sweeping motions of her eyelashes – Korra's eyelashes – and the daring blue eyes – Korra's blue eyes, like ocean water and glaciers – almost directly above her.

"This is our first performance, so we might be a little rough. We're um, we're just going to start now with a song we call 'Happy In Love.'"

'Happy in Love' was not a very happy song at all, but Korra's voice was melodic and wafted through the bar with purpose and intent. Of course, Asami wasn't sure which to pay more attention to, her singing or playing, and decided instead to close her eyes so she could just listen to what Korra was doing. Her thighs twitched at the long drawl that bled into the second verse, and bit her lip. Lee clapped at the end, but Asami could only lick her lips and open her eyes. Korra wasn't looking at her, though, and instead, they delved into another soft sounding song, this time less wistful in tone but not in lyrics. She kept her eyes open and watched Korra bounce on her heels to keep time with the bass.

The next song was livelier, and actually had people bouncing along. "I wonder if they have a CD or something on iJams," Lee yelled into her ear.

Asami wondered as well, just so she could hear Korra again. God, what a name. What a woman. She wondered if she wrote the songs as well, if she was quiet or introspective, but decided that no, she didn't really care about that, she just wanted to fuck Korra wherever they ended up and fuck her good and taste her brown skin and thread her fingers through that long hair like it was a tether to the world.

"You know I dreamed about you?" Korra was singing, eyes closed, large hands wrapped around the microphone, faint scars visible even in the light, letting the other two take up the slack from her lack of lead guitar playing, "For twenty nine years, before I saw you."

The song trailed off and Korra opened her eyes, cleared her throat, and said, enthusiastically, "That's it for tonight. Thanks for listening, you guys are fucking awesome!"

The crowd hooted and hollered, and someone even yelled, "Encore!" Korra laughed and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Fuck, man, again?"

"Encore!" A few people started clapping and whistling, so Korra turned around and said, "Alright guys, you heard them!"

They played the song again, this time more desperately, more sadness evident in their every move, and they ended for real this time, the drummer hitting the bass pedal repeatedly.

Korra was panting when she said, "We're done, fuck you guys."

The crowd, and Asami was proud to be a part of them, stood up and clapped and cheered.

"Thanks so much," Korra said, "I'm Korra, lead guitar, as you already know. That's Hasook, on rhythm," The Water Tribe boy strummed a few chords to show which he was. "This is Mako on bass. Say hi Mako."

Mako waved, then gave them the finger.

She finally concluded, "And that's the best dude ever on drums, the magnificent, hunky, beautiful Bolin!"

Bolin stood up and bowed at the waist in all directions of the crowd. His shirt was soaked with sweat and something colorful but mostly bright was on his neck. When he moved again, Asami saw it was a tattoo.

"And we are the Fire Ferrets," She grinned, and God, what a smile, it was practically brighter than the lights overhead. They were gathering their things and Asami suddenly said, "Lee, come on."

She wasn't going to just let Korra leave without meeting her in person.

"Where are we going?" Lee asked, snagging the fish bowl to finish what was left of it, and they left the bar, turning left into the alleyway. There was a mottled van sitting there, parked illegally, and there was a skinny kid, wearing too large everything, sitting in front of it, chewing on a straw while reading a comic in the faint yellow light of the street lights.

"Can't have it," He said to them, without looking up. "She not for sale."

"We're not here for that," Asami said dismissively.

He looked up, suspicious brown eyes peering up at her, "Then whatchu want?"

A door from the bar opened, and the band members shuffled out, cursing, as they headed into the sticky night with their instruments, Korra's voice loudest of all, "Oh, fuck off!"

Asami turned to him and said, smiling, "We're here for them."

* * *

Bolin was actually beyond pumped as they gathered their instruments. "Christ, man," He was saying over and over again, bouncing on his toes as he disengaged the locks on the drum set. The bar didn't have it's own, personal set, so every band that they hosted needed to bring their own. Korra and Hasook never saw why Bolin, Mako, and whoever they could rope in to help them complained about setting them up and breaking them down. In the Water Tribe, the drums were abandoned oil barrels, heavy and composed of aluminum or tin, the mouth would have stretched out animal skins that always needed to be taken off and left in someone's home to keep the skin pliant, and they could only be carried, touched, and beaten by the strongest in the village. The privilege of Republic City still surprised and shocked them both.

Which was not to say that they weren't adjusting well.

Hasook had few memories of The North Pole and mainly visited family when he and his parents could, all more well off than most Water Tribe. Korra had actually experienced life in The South Pole, generally regarded as the least developed of all the Nations, as well as inheriting what was normally considered a rather redundant title in this day and age of wealth and "equality"; The Avatar. As far as just about everyone she knew was concerned, that meant Korra could make some fire, cheat at rock dice, and was lethal in a game of Marco Polo.

Not that she'd ever played a game of Marco Polo. Korra didn't even know what a pool felt like.

She mostly used the Water Bending to make sure her siblings didn't hurt themselves in the bathtub or to scare someone walking by. Everyone was sure that there was supposed to be something significant about her being the Avatar, but it'd been lost in the new ages. Her predecessor had died before he could impart any wisdom to or about her. Aang was a voice in her mind, from her earliest memory, and he claimed that the only way she'd learn was not by herself, but by being taught as he'd been taught, as the Avatars before them were taught. He'd been doddering and nearly insane the last thirty years, following the death of his wife. His family was hard to locate, holding the scrolls of his ancient teachings as well as how she was supposed to Air Bend.

Korra, personally, didn't blame them as her parents did. She'd have ran as well, if she'd any clue that she was the Avatar.

She counted herself lucky, to be honest. The South Pole had the lowest literacy rate in the world, and in Republic City, she may have just barely scraped by with her parents and siblings enough to eat and keep a roof over their heads, but she could read. She could write. She had opportunities to play music - music! - the one thing she truly missed about The South Pole. They could keep that fucking noise about snow and it's many meanings, as far as she was concerned. Republic City was where her present and future laid.

"Did he pay us?" She asked Mako lowly, and received a nod in response. Good. That was a small load off of their shoulders. Her parents had said the boys could stay with them until they were on their own feet, and that they never had to pay to live with them, but they all would have felt better if they could provide something besides the occasional baby sitter. All three of them participated in the local, underground street fighting, won just about every match, and played just for fun. They were saving the money, using it exclusively to either contribute to the household or perhaps get a place of their own.

Korra put her guitar in its case, carefully wiping off the sweat and grime off her strings and fret board, then strapped the case to her back. Rodney, Tahno, and Jic had each taken a part of Bolin's drum set and were heading out the back door, and they were all grumbling about the weight. Korra walked past them and into the alley way, growling, "Oh, fuck off!"

Skoochy was reading the comic they'd bummed off the local owner, promising to pay him later, and he immediately wrapped it up and put it in his back pocket. Korra felt kind of bad for him. He was an orphan, even longer than Bolin and Mako, as they'd been seven years on the streets before they'd moved in with her and her family, and Skoochy was either eleven or twelve. He lived at the local group home, as he kept running away, but he was so damned good at what he did – information, pickpocketing, conning people, the whole nine yards – that it didn't seem right to put him in a suburb somewhere. Republic City was his city, was his home, like it was her home. Not in the same sense, but she knew every street, every fence, every half-abandoned building, druggies hiding in the rafters, cops lurking near the alleys. Skoochy knew every spot to steal a slice of meat or a fruit, knew where the best benches were for a quick nap.

In front of him stood two young women, both in dresses, one red and the other multi-colored, both wearing heels. They had on make-up, but she could tell they were pale and young underneath it. She'd been here long enough to be able to tell prostitutes from the local style. Sometimes, dirty, wrecked clothes were in, found in thrift stores that jacked the prices up the instant they knew, other times suits and five hundred Yuans jeans and shirts were the norm.

This month, it was chic to look expensive.

The taller of the two girls smiled at them, then walked over to them, glass vials crunching under her heels.

"We were inside," She said, gesturing to herself and the smaller woman, the one in red, "And we just wanted to tell you that you guys were excellent tonight."

Bolin strode forwards, forcing everyone out of the way with his broad shoulders, and smiled, "Why, thank you, pretty ladies. Just remember, The Fire Ferrets is my baby."

"Your baby?" The smaller woman asked, peeking behind her friend. "We thought, um, Korra started it."

Korra shook her head, even as Bolin and the others hefted the drum set into the back of Tahno's dilapidated van and said, quietly, "No, Bolin has always wanted to be in a band but, um, I'm the only one that can sing and play the guitar."

"I can sing," Tahno muttered peevishly.

"And play the guitar?" Korra asked skeptically. Tahno was more Bolin's friend than her friend, in the traditional way, but they were rather depreciating towards one another, and it wouldn't be unlike him to say that he was a better anything than she was.

"Yeah," He replied, glaring.

"At the same time?"

He crossed his arms, "Yeah, fuckwit, I can do both at the same fucking time."

"Are you any good?" Hasook finally broached, then winced at the look Tahno gave him. "Alright, Jesus, quit that evil eye shit. You're worse than my grandma."

"Like shit I want to be compared to your crusty-ass grandma," Tahno retorted.

Hasook was starting to burn under his natural brown tone, "Watch your fucking mouth about my fucking grandma, shit-for-brains."

The two were approaching one another when Bolin stepped in between them, fully extending his burly arms, and said, "Nope, not again. Hasook, you just healed that hand. Tahno, Hasook will break his hand on your face again. Can't we all just go for some seaweed noodles and call it a day?"

Mako and Korra glanced at each other, before Mako shrugged, wrapping his scarf more firmly against his neck, "I'm good."

Both of the irate Water Benders agreed, then Korra did, and collared Skoochy, "C'mon, Skooch. You could do with some food."

The taller woman looked Korra up and down, her green eyes nearly glowing in the street light, then asked, in a husky, sensual voice, "Can we come?"

For a moment, Korra was speechless, then said, "You can come. It's right down the block so I guess we can walk."

They did walk, with the two women introducing themselves as Asami – tall, pale, dark-haired, almost aristocratic, even the name was seeped in elegance, Asami, and Korra felt dirty and uncouth and even unfeminine around her – and Lee, who was shorter but just as pale, just as stamped with rich girl status that Asami was, on the way to the noodle shop. They ordered a round of beers and sipped slowly. This late most of the restaurants and bars gave up their weak attempts at carding and tended to judge based off of familiarity and faces, as well as general common sense. One beer wasn't enough to make someone beyond intoxicated, they normally found, although Jic, who drank his in one gulp, was the general exception.

Asami was at the stool next to Korra, so Korra turned a little and asked, "You really liked us?"

Asami smiled, showing off even, white teeth, before saying, "Yeah, you guys were fantastic. We actually wanted to know if you had a CD or an iJams account or something."

Korra shook her head, "Oh, no. We're just playing for fun."

Asami propped her head on her hand and smiled, "Really? So what do you all really do?"

Feeling self-conscious, Korra shrugged, "A little of this, a little of that." No need to tell the girl they were underground street fighters during the week. It wasn't exactly a first date kind of thing. Not that they were on a date at all. Nothing at all like a date. They were just talking and eating and Korra was dressed terribly, in her well-worn jeans and shirt and hat… She snatched the hat off of her own head. She probably looked like a dick.

"And you?" She asked, faking confidence.

Asami shrugged as well, lolling her head back, showing her long, white neck, "Don't really know."

Korra swallowed, then jumped at the sudden bowl of noodles in front of her. Bolin's cheery face put a dampening on her budding arousal, and she was never so thankful that her small crush on the Brawling Brothers – their tag team name – was long over with. Dirty socks and underwear on their shared bedroom floor really did that for a girl. Now, they were beyond cleanly, but she'd really had to whip them into shape.

Korra slurped on her noodles, making sure Skoocky's bowl was at a nice level and Rodney hadn't stolen any, and was mid-slurp when Asami leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "You're really hot. I'd love to get fucked by you."

Korra – The Avatar, lead singer and guitarist of a somewhat punk group, illegal street fighter, from one of the worst sectors of the world – managed to spit her noodles at what would have been at least six feet away, but was in reality, only Tahno's face and hair. Everyone but Asami looked at her and Mako put his face in his hands, moaning, "Oh God, I knew it. We couldn't have a normal day, we just couldn't."

Only Asami and Bolin – fucking Bolin, she was going to pile drive his ass- were laughing hysterically at the sight.

Korra told all the beings of fate, in that life and the next, to go fuck themselves as she blushed red and stormed out.

* * *

Korra was leaving. The entire reason she was even in this shithole of a restaurant was just going to leave, and she wasn't going to do anything about it. Asami bit her lip, saw the Earth Rumblers cap still on the chair and snatched it, then stood up and Lee winked, giving her the okay to follow Korra. She managed to be somewhat polite and said, "I'm going to head home now."

They all said their goodbyes, even as Tahno seethed and mopped his face of noodles, and she hurried out, trying to catch Korra. Korra had a headstart, but was just barely down the block, kicking at rocks and no doubt chastising herself.

"Korra, wait," She called, and luckily enough, Korra did stop. Asami was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to find her, this deep into the inner city. She faced the rest of the street, orange street lights where they weren't blown out, shoes thrown over electrical lines, glass bottles broken on sidewalk and street alike, and when Asami touched her shoulder, she could feel the bone of her shoulder blade and the deep breath she took before turning around.

The top of her head was probably at Asami's collar bones, but without heels, they'd have been near the same height. Up close she was even prettier, possibly androgynous, in a way. Her cheekbones were broader than what was generally considered feminine, her mouth full; freckles were evident all over the bridge of her nose and bleeding onto her cheeks. Her eyes were almond-shaped and large, fringed by the ink black lashes. Her nose was short, snub-tipped.

"Yeah?" Korra asked, her voice just as rough and jagged as in the bar.

Asami handed her the green and blue cap, "Here. You left it."

Korra took the cap back and pulled it low over her eyes. All Asami could see from the angle was the bottom of her face, the end of her nose, her mouth. Her lips moved, twisting her full lips briefly, "Is that it?"

"No," Asami breathed, reaching out to touch Korra's face, thumb pressing into the sharp edge of her jawline, then rubbing upwards, so that she cupped her face by her ear, and lifted her head up. Her eyes burned gray in the night light, and Asami couldn't help herself. She bent down and pressed her mouth to Korra's.

Korra's mouth was still, then it seemed to effectually bdevour/b her, pulling on her own mouth, sucking her tongue in, and Asami could only moan and wiggle in delight. They breathed through their noses, rather than stop kissing, and Asami learned that Korra's hands really were larger, cupping her ass in a way that suggested her hands were just made for Asami. She thrust her tongue further into Korra's mouth, tasting the slightly salty taste of her noodles and the textured roof of her mouth. Asami threaded her fingers through Korra's hair, knocking her cap off, cradling her skull in her hand to press them ever closer.

They parted finally, breathing deeply. Asami could feel the blood that had risen to her cheeks and Korra was licking her lips. "Fuck," Asami said, nearly panting. "I've never been kissed like that before."

Korra had regained some of her confidence from the noodle hut, probably with Asami coming after her, and smirked, standing on her tip-toes to press kisses to her jawline.

She licked behind Asami's ear, making her groan, and asked, breath hot on her wet skin, "Want to go somewhere?"

Asami panted in her ear, "Yeah, somewhere. Anywhere."

Korra hummed, then pushed away from Asami and grabbed her hand. They stumbled together into an alley about another block away, far enough away from the van that none of the band members would find them accidentally. Asami pressed Korra against the wall of the alleyway, hurriedly taking off her shoes so that she could kiss her from the closer angle, feeling cement and general filth under her feet, but she couldn't bring herself to care. This close in height, she could look into Korra's eyes, could suck on her earlobes, could touch her full breasts without straining either of them in a decidedly unsexy manner.

Korra's chest heaved, like something from a trashy romance novel, before she lurched forwards to kiss Asami again, slipping her leg in between Asami's legs. The rough fabric of her jeans rubbed against Asami delightfully and she gasped at the sensation. She kept her hands in Korra's hair as she was suddenly lifted and Korra pressed her even more firmly to her strong thigh.

"Ride me," Korra murmured. "I bet it feels so good."

Asami did ride her, shifting her hips and jerking herself against Korra's leg like some sort of wild animal. The gleam in Korra's eyes said she was thinking the same thing, that it was better to fuck like animals in a alleyway then for either of them to have simply left. Their mouths kept seeking each other out, like magnets, and Korra growled low in her throat at a particular pant Asami let loose in her mouth. She cupped Asami's ass and blifted/b her up, so her legs wrapped around Korra's waist. Korra finagled herself so her hand was pressed to Asami's center, and she hiked the dress up more, before her hand encountered thick wetness. Korra thrust two fingers into her without warning and Asami groaned, pressing her face to Korra's neck as the rough pads of Korra's fingers rubbed her insides so good. Fuck, she'd never had sex like this. All dirty and out in the open and with a total stranger.

Most of the elite of Republic City ran in the same circles, and there was no way to be worth over a million Yuans and to bnot/b know others. More than that, Korra knew how to move, knew how to thrust into Asami so well that she could barely see anything.

Korra was something new, almost savage, desperate, with her big blue eyes and thick hair and pretty brown skin. Her father would never approve. She lost her train of thought as Korra stretched wide her fingers and Asami gasped against her, then searched for her mouth to muffle her scream.

She must not have done a very good job, as a light flashed into the alleyway, and Korra gently put her down before sucking on her fingers with a saucy wink.

It was a metal bending officer, dressed in the normal uniform, and with a large scar on her face. She crossed her arms at seeing who it was and said, flatly, "Korra."

Korra grinned around her fingers, then took them out and said, "Evening, Chief BeiFong. Isn't the weather lovely?"

Asami paled. Lin BeiFong was the chief of police and there was no way this wouldn't get to her father. Sure, she didn't mind pissing him off in the abstract, but him actually finding out would put a huge damper on her social and romantic life.

BeiFong, however, was more concerned about Korra than even bothering to pay attention to Asami.

"You're in another alley way. I sent you home the other day about this. This is billegal/b, you dumbfuck."

Korra rubbed over her heart, "Ow. Words do hurt, Chief."

"Whatever, you boat, now head home."

Korra scowled at the name and Asami winced as well. Boat wasn't exactly the politically correct word to refer to Water Tribe people, but wasn't quite as bad as salamander for Fire Nation. Asami wasn't either or, but one of the city's mutts, so just about all the slurs had little effect on her. Korra was clearly strict Water Tribe, so this was more painful.

The Chief didn't pay attention to that, "Home. Now. And make sure she gets home too."

Korra nodded, visibly colder to her, "Yes, chief."

BeiFong's face softened and she held up a familiar cap. "Here, take it. Try not to let it fall off again, the shit's hard to get in the city."

The Water Tribe girl took the hat, then Asami said, "C'mon, I'll take you home."

The Chief left them, even as Korra shook her head, "I'm not far from home, I'll just walk."

"It's three in the morning," Asami pointed out. "And you don't want a ride home?"

Korra shook her head, "Nah."

They stared at one another for a brief moment, then Asami looked away, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she'd let herself slip so easily for a pretty pair of eyes.

"If you're sure," She said. Korra nodded, putting her hands in her pockets. Asami swallowed, "Will I see you again?" The other girl looked up to her and Asami hurriedly added, "I want to make sure I return that favor."

Korra grinned, brilliant and fantastic, then said, "Stop by the bar and ask for me. Bumi will make sure I get it, and I'll find you."

Asami raised her eyebrows, "You'll find me?"

Korra's grin widened into a crooked mess, "Trust me on this one. You will fucking see me again."

The taller girl nodded, then located her shoes and dusted the filth off her feet before putting her heels back on.

"I had a good time," Asami finally managed to get out. "You guys really are good."

Korra tipped her cap, "Thanks for going. I'll see you later."

She obviously didn't handle long, drawn-out goodbyes well, as she pressed a fleeting kiss to Asami's cheek, then jogged to the end of the alley and climbed the fence with the efficient motions of a well-seasoned regular. Asami watched her leave until she was lost in the mess of the city, and stepped out of the alley only to find Lee standing near the mouth.

"I told you to go home," She said to her. Lee shrugged, "Didn't have much else to do."

They walked to the car, and were almost home when Lee asked, "So I guess you like her?"

Asami blinked slowly. "You know what? I think I do."

* * *

Going through the back alleys was always faster than going through the streets. Bolin and Mako would make sure her guitar got in the apartment, as this was definitely not the first time Korra had made an ass of herself when out with someone new. Bolin actually felt cheated if she hadn't been a dumbfuck at least once.

The rickety fire escape was actually too rusted to fall down, but it provided a nice way to get in without making too much noise. The window to their fifth floor apartment was open and she slipped in with very little aplomb into the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in his wet suit for fishing. Tonraq looked up when he saw her and smiled at her, "Korra."

She kissed his smooth cheek, "Hello, Papa."

He rubbed her head with his huge hand, "And how are you? You are getting in rather late." His speech, as well as her mother's, tended to be more stilted in the Fire Tongue than her own. Her little brothers and sister spoke it easier than her, while grandmother did not try at all.

"We had a concert today," She said, "and I went for a walk with a girl, instead of coming straight home."

He hummed, then pressed a kiss to her forehead and passed her his half-empty plate of a single egg and slice of toast.

"I am going on the boat today," He said, standing tall and to Korra, it was like being a child in the South Pole again. He seemed to fill all the air and space. But she did not have a child's faith anymore, that he would always be there and always come to her rescue. She had seen him broken before, as the big ships took the fish and seals that they'd once hunted and the rich city dwellers had shot up the caribou they ate without sacrificing any of it to the gods. Gods were fickle things, and did not care who killed their creatures, and so, the Water Tribe was punished for something they could not help.

He continued, "Fishing should only be a moon or two this time, so I will be home soon. I have told your mother, so take care of the rest of the family."

She nodded, eating the yolk, "Yes, Papa. I'll try."

He smiled, a bare shadow of the grin he once had, and grabbed his coat and hat before exiting the apartment. That was the biggest change from her childhood, she mused. His Water Master braids had to be cut when they reached the city, people calling him savage and unusual and he'd been unable to get a job otherwise. She was too young to go through the ice dodging challenge or the test of water mastery when they moved to Republic City, which was why her hair was not tied up or in braids, but always down. A master could wear their hair in whatever way they wanted, but only after seven years of being undefeated. There was Water Tribe here, but the overwhelming majority had no clue about any of the old ways.

She finished his breakfast, then poured herself a cup of water and drank it, staring out the window. The city stretched upwards, always upwards, then curved at the harbor. They weren't close enough to see the pro-bending arena or the statue of her predecessor, Avatar Aang, in his youth. She finished her water, washed the glass out and put it back in the cabinet. She moved closer to the window, so close she could smell the humid air and smog, then closed her eyes and breathed in, out, before making a single flame in the palm of her hand. Sometimes she made the flames dance or the earth to tumble around or the water into shapes, but never a single breeze. A part of her was concerned. She'd been bending the other three elements freely since her toddlerhood, but air had eluded her. She'd tried to meditate on it, but she'd never learned how to meditate properly either.

The spirits of the city were only so much help, and finding a teacher was nigh impossible. Air Benders were a hot commodity and getting one of just the thirty or so, - Aang's grandchildren and great-grandchildren and itheir children/i to teach just the techniques was hard. Her parents had kept her being the Avatar a secret, since it was well known that they'd take her away with the compound being built in the South Pole. As far as the White Lotus were concerned, the Avatar was hidden deeply, not living minutes away from Air Temple Island.

She let the flame die out and walked into her bedroom. Bolin and Mako were already asleep on their cots and she took her jeans off and hung her cap up before slipping into her own cot. She rolled onto her side to stare at the wall, then sucked on the fingers that had once entered Asami. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh, thinking about how tight she'd been, the red creeping onto her face before she'd hidden it in the crook of Korra's neck. There'd been her strong thighs, nearly trapping Korra's waist, and her overwhelming scent, so addictive. The questing mouth as well made her clench and she sighed again, before Bolin mumbled, "Korra, quit."

"Sorry," She whispered, then forced herself to relax enough to sleep, still sucking on her fingers.

The morning rose without warning, and they could hear Grandmother next door, hawking into her normal handkerchief before getting the little ones up. Aglakti tumbled into their room within moments, stepping neatly on Mako's back, then Bolin's, before crawling to lay on top of Korra.

She cracked her eyes open to see her little sister's grinning face and couldn't remain upset, scooping her up and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"You spoil her too much," Mako muttered, but he was already wrapping his blanket around Bolin and helping him back to sleep by heating his hand a little and pressing it to his back. Bolin let out a sleepy, content sigh.

She shook her head, putting the toddler down to stand up and then take her hand. Chu and Iluq were already sitting at the table, while their mother brought out fish and vegetables. Korra was old enough to remember meals of only meat and sea weed, but Iluq was still a suckling at the time, and Chu in her mother's belly. They complained about the vegetables but one look from Senna, and they quieted. Korra chuckled, putting Aglakti in her seat, then kissed her mother's cheek, as her face faced the oven. Her mother patted her hip, encountered skin, and then admonished her in Winter Tongue, "Go, put on some clothes. You see the others have on clothes."

Mako emerged from the hall in his underwear and Senna threw her hands up, "Clothes, you two!"

They went back into their room, rooting around for their jeans, and in the process woke up Bolin, who yawned and stretched. He'd slept in his jeans, the lucky bastard, and went for breakfast immediately. They stopped to brush their teeth in the small bathroom, splashing water onto their faces. Chu and Iluq were hanging from Bolin's biceps by the time they'd come back, laughing, and Aglakti was eating their carrots. The elder siblings shook their heads, and they were given their identical breakfasts of an egg and some melon. There was no more space at the table, and Grandmother had shuffled out of the bathroom to receive her breakfast.

"Do you work today, Mama?" Korra asked.

Senna nodded, "The shop needed someone this morning, so I will be leaving soon. Did you see your Papa this morning?" She was referring to both of them when she said 'your Papa.' Mako and Bolin called her parents the same names she did; Aama and Aata, which translated into Mama and Papa. They'd been living with them for five years, since Bolin had told her that day they were playing that they lived on the streets, and although they still remembered their parents, Senna and Tonraq treated them as they did Korra.

Mako nodded, "He was up when we came in."

"He said he'd only be a moon or two this time," Korra added, and her mother's shoulders lifted, with stress leaving her.

"Good," She sighed. "It was hard in the Old Land, but here, it is worse. The people do not have so much honor to come and say if your Papa is hurt or to ask less for bills when we have less people."

The two looked down soberly at their breakfasts, then up at their playful siblings. Bolin did less of the street fighting at their urging, and went to school as well. Mako and Korra had both finished mandatory education, and the local school had been more than thankful to graduate both of them. Between Korra's complaining about the inaccuracy of the tribal information and living conditions of the past - Aang did occasionally make appearances, although they were infrequent, and he was more than happy to make just about all of them when she was to talk about the industrial revolution; showing flashes of overworked Fire Nation shooting lightning into the grid and Earth and Water Tribe working on canals by the dozen, non-benders with their stomachs pressed flat as they paved the road, tar sticking to them - and Mako's talk about the foster network and education standards, they were half expecting a rebellion before they graduated. Their parents had come to the ceremony and beamed with pride as they both walked off the stage. Tonraq had to miss a fishing expedite just to go. That was why they were street fighting now. Tonraq's pay just wasn't enough, with Chu and Iluq needing school supplies and growing out of their clothes like weeds and Aglakti's sicknesses coming and going and with Grandmother dependent on them as well.

They finished their breakfast, and then waited as the others got dressed in their school uniforms, mentally noting that Bolin's sleeves were too short and Iluq's pants needed to be hemmed. Chu hadn't said anything, but his steps were awkward. He'd outgrown his shoes again.

Mako gave the younger boys each a little money for lunch at the entrance and Korra walked Aglakti to her day care, connected to the school. Grandmother was too old to keep up with Aglakti for the full day, but could go and pick her up for the early half of the afternoon. The day care teacher watched disapprovingly as Korra kissed Aglakti on her mouth in parting. Gentle kisses on the mouth or pressing noses together were both acceptable forms of intimacy.

The woman said, "Her money's due soon. Two hundred Yuans, just like always."

Korra's jaw clenched. She was sure that it was near robbery, especially just for half the day, but any disagreement would lead to no school at all.

"You'll get it," She said, watching Aglakti greet her friends and sit at her desk.

"Be sure that I do," Said the woman.

Korra walked down the block, and Mako flocked to her side.

The street fighting wasn't actually in a street, but an underground arena. Normally, one needed an Earth bender, but that was the beauty of being friends with the Avatar herself. The arena was out of the city, and they took the bus out, past the suburbs, and into the rural surrounding area. Korra forced the rock entrance up and out when they were sure it was just the two of them, and then down when they'd stepped in.

Mako went to the changing rooms while Korra paid their admission and fighting dues - almost two hundred yuans, but it was for the chance to win it back with interest – and then took a standing position near the mat. His opponent was a small, sprighty young woman, and the match was fast, her Earth against his Fire, the two virtually flying until he had her pinned down, flames seconds from engulfing her. The fights only ended when someone tapped out, knocked out the arena, or was pinned. It didn't matter how long; when their back touched the mat, it was over.

"Win!" The referee shouted, and Mako stood up before helping the girl up. His win from this one would only be fifty Yuans, but the next match would be a hundred, and the one after that two hundred, and so on and so forth. The catch was that if he lost after taking a match, he didn't get any of the winnings at all.

He looked at her and she put up five fingers. Five matches. Eight hundred Yuans was their rent, school fees, and grocery bill. She would fight today as well, making the money for Aglakti's school and possibly any medical bills as well. Their grandmother always said it was the air that did it, that her younger siblings were sick more frequently than she was or anyone before them. Whatever the cause was, she'd have to win at least six so that they were safe from further poverty.

Mako's opponents were on the weaker side, and he only struggled against another Fire Bender, large and intimidating as well as a seemingly never ending power house of fire. The thing about street fighting, though, was that there were no rules, so when Mako knocked him down with some foot work and threatened to singe his balls off, he gave in. Mako tapped out of the next, collecting his winnings, and Korra went into the changing rooms.

It was rather empty and Korra changed out in the open, not concerned with her body. She liked how she looked, was proud of her heritage, and although the words they called her hurt, it was out there fighting that she knew she was worth just as much as anyone else.

The loose sweat pants and shirt kept her warm as she entered the room. A man stood in front of her, all long arms and legs, and there was a pool of water near them. The limited amount of water was just to be sure that the match, did, eventually end. She'd never showed any of them her Earth or Fire Bending so as far as any of them knew, she was strictly a Water Bender.

They took their shoes off before getting into the arena and crouching down. It was harder to move from standing to Water formation, so they were allowed to crouch. Within three movements, Korra had frozen his feet, then jerked them upwards so his back slammed into the ground.

"Win!" The referee shouted. Fifty Yuan.

She stayed in the ring, and her next opponent, smaller and faster in just those few movements, stepped into the ring. Her position was solid, strong, so her previous trick would not work. She'd have to meet force with force. They were still for a moment, before the woman launched rocks at her. Korra avoided them, ducking and dodging, just before she took water from the tub, and, making sure her connection with it was solid, launched it at the woman with all the force she had. The woman went flying out and the referee yelled, "Win!" One hundred Yuan.

Her fights were fast, furious, and sometimes she didn't have to bend, just had to knock them off their feet, overwhelm them with her weight and speed. She wasn't an avoidant person by necessity or nature, and always met force with force.

Her six fights were over soon and she was panting with exhaustion when she rejected the next fight, collected her winnings, and went back into the locker room.

"You were great out there," A woman with short black hair told her. Korra nodded, and said politely, shirt over her head, "Thank you." She finished changing, keeping the pink bills in the pocket of her jeans, then joined Mako at the exit. They made sure no one else was looking before Korra forced them up, then hid the entrance. They'd been out the city about seven hours and they were both tired, muscles sore from the physical strain.

"'M tired," Mako groaned as they walked to the main road, stretching his arms upwards, then rotating his wrists. Wrists suffered a lot of use in Fire Bending, and could stiffen up, sometimes even leading to Carpal Tunnel. The last two fights, he'd only used physical force, they'd probably hurt too much.

Korra cracked her neck, swinging her arms, "Me too."

The bus ride was long, and the wait even longer. They counted their filthy, stained bills as they waited. "Eight hundred," He said, when he was through. Korra kept counting, and then said, "Sixteen hundred."

They pooled their money together in a small paper bag, then wrapped the money up before the bus pulled up. It was the same driver from earlier, and he nodded in acknowledgement.

The ride was almost two hours long and now with the anxiety of winning off of her shoulders, she looked out, at the long fields of vegetables blending into the huge, sprawling houses of the elite. Asami probably lived out here, she mused. No one grew up in the city and acted like her; every move of a dweller was restricted, cautious, afraid of the consequences. Every action of Asami's radiated confidence, craving, and her mouth that night, her loud exhales, she was nearly screaming in the night. That was not something that the poor did, only rich people, screaming for others to look at them, that they were very important, yes, please, pay attention to the poor little rich person. The further in they went, the smaller the houses, until they were in the cramped shanty towns of the very poorest, then the soaring apartment buildings, struggling to fit more and more people with less and less space. She had heard that the financial district had apartments worth over a million Yuan. The very concept of it was staggering.

Bolin, Iluq, Chu, and Aglakti were home with Grandmother when they got there. Bolin had managed to get everyone changed into play clothes and to do their homework, and Grandmother had done her best with what they had left, feeding them roasted vegetables with watered down milk for a snack.

"Hello, Grandmother," They both said in Winter Tongue and kissed her wrinkled cheeks. She chuckled and patted them both on their shoulders. Bolin and Mako both spoke some Winter Tongue, as Korra had taught them so that they could haggle with the fish mongers and grocers on the docks, but Fire Tongue still prevailed throughout the city, leftover from the Fire Nation's invasions.

Mako put the money away in their room and then said, balling his hand into a fist, "Grandmother, I will go down to market and bring something back."

She nodded, "Yes, you're a good boy. Take Chu with you, his Winter Tongue is bad."

Mako agreed, snatching Chu up by the back of his shirt. There was a hole near the collar, and it ripped further with the playful tug. Mako simply lifted him up and wrapped an arm around his waist, trapping him next to Mako's side. Chu laughed, and then said, "Higher, Mako!"

Mako put Chu on his shoulder as they exited the apartment and Korra was left with the others. She was hungry, but knew that there would not be much left in the pantry or fridge, so she went into the room, took a single twenty yuan bill from the small amount of money that they'd had left over, and exited the apartment. She'd bring gyros for everyone to tide them over until Mako came with the groceries and possible a new shirt each for the little ones. Grandmother would never ask where they got the money from, just be thankful that they had it. Mama would ignore its very existence, while Tonraq was against it.

Korra went down the street to the gyro vendor and bought three small ones, a medium one for Grandmother, and then four large gyros. Just as she'd thought, it came up to exactly twenty yuans, and she carried her hot load to the apartment, making sure to juggle them so people would think that it was overly hot for her. Absorbing heat wasn't hard, when it was brief like this. Only holding someone down and applying burning fire to them without any fighting would be the only way that a Fire Bender could be burned.

She went up the stairs and gave Grandmother her gyro and yogurt before handing the little ones their own. She sat alone at the table and ate half of her meal, putting the other half in the fridge. She'd eat it later, after practice. Because there was no mistake, they'd have practice today after performing yesterday. God, that'd been so scary, but so fun. She took her guitar out of its case and practiced her chords and the opening riffs to their songs long after Mako and Chu came back, with the packs of shirts for everyone. She only stopped when Bolin knocked on the door and asked, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, putting her guitar back in the case and getting the bass drum for him, "Duh."

* * *

It took Asami a week to go back to the bar. The establishment was dusty and empty, possibly even more decrepit in the early twilight, but Ursine had recommended it when Lee wanted her little adventure. Now, she realized he was trying to get her and Lee in trouble, possibly hurt, or at least a little embarrassed, but the challenge at the time had been too great to ignore. Going to the bad part of town, flirting with a street rat with gorgeous eyes and a goofy, crooked grin, having sex in an alley; she hadn't reported any of that to him, mostly because she'd been enchanted by the thought of that gorgeous girl throughout class. There was no time for boasting when every thought was of her guitarist. The guitarist, she corrected herself. Korra only belonged to her as much as the air did, or the birds.

So, just as Korra had said, she went to the bar in the day, still dressed in her rather preppy clothes of a short skirt, oxford tucked in. Business school didn't feel like it was for her, degree or not, and the clothes surely stated that. The bartender wasn't there, but the hippy-ish man in orange and brown was there, still. His hair was wild and thick, black, and he was darker than most, although not as dark as someone Water Tribe. Another half-and-half the city was filled with, more Water Tribe than Fire or Earth, like she was.

"Can I help you?" He grunted.

She licked her lips, "I'm looking for Korra. We, uh, met last week and she said to come here if I wanted to see her again."

He sniggered, "You met?" He made the word 'met' sound vulgar, implying all sorts of activities. It might have been true, but there was no need for him to bring it out in the open.

Asami's shoulders straightened. Like she was going to let some poor, rundown man that she could own backwards and forwards with a snap of her fingers pick at her.

"Yes," She answered, voice frosty, "We met."

He raised his hands, still chortling, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. This is a first though."

The man stood, putting himself almost a head taller than her, but he was frightfully thin, all long angels and bones. He walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink, then asked, wordlessly, with a gesture if she wanted one. She shook her head, and watched him with detachment as he threw back a shot.

"Name's Bumi," He said, and held out a hand. Asami starred. He slowed put it back to his side and said, slowly, mouth curling, "Alrighty, then. Not Korra's usual taste."

Her lips thinned, "And what's her usual taste?"

He smirked, "For one, friendly. They lap her up, you know, those kids looking for someone to save. All street, charm, and confidence."

Kids. So not just girls. Korra might have been bisexual, like her. It also took her a moment to realize he was saying "street comma charm" as two different meanings, not street charm. Like there was any charm to being a street rat. But she couldn't deny that Korra had some charm to her; the slope to her shoulders, the flashing eyes, the unobtrusive way she'd eaten her noodles; the large, daring hands, her scuffed Chucks anchored on the microphone.

"She's a good kid," Bumi was saying, "But they sure don't reek of body wash."

She was suddenly confused and offended in equal terms, "Body wash?" Then, "Reek?!"

"Most of them can only afford soap. The hard, cheap stuff. Irish Springs, Dove, whatever's on sale in a corner store."

"Oh." She hadn't realized there was a difference in body hygiene as well.

He smirked, "Yep. Still want to talk to her again?"

Asami was considering saying no, but she recalled the self-assured voice, the eyes that were gray in the washed out orange lights, "You will fucking see me again."

"Yeah, Bumi," Asami said to him. "I want to talk to her again."

He nodded, and then passed her a napkin, "Write your number on that. I schedule their band, I call you. I'll give her the number too, but Korra has a way of popping up when you want her, so before you leave? Walk around a little. Look at how she lives."

Asami looked at him for some sign of insincerity, then said, quietly, "Fine."

She walked out the bar, putting her keys in her purse, and walked around. In the more concrete light, things did not have the same kind of romanticism or mystique. Kids played football in the streets, kicking at under inflated basketballs, pushing and shoving with a lack of rules, darker than her from their play. At that age, she'd had equestrian training, tae kwon do, everything indoors, in covered arenas. The old people looked down from the tiny balconies of their apartments, smoking cigarettes with thin, brittle fingers in their housecoats, paper-thin skin golden in the light, but still translucent, veins visible up close, like browned onions. The teenagers lurked in alleyways, eyeing her mistrustfully, smoking cigarettes like their grandparents above but with swifter movements, slipping more into the background.

She wandered the streets paved with broken glass, bullet shells, cigarette butts, and alcohol stains, suddenly aware that this was the city that her father was a board member of, this was the city so many people flocked to and struggled to get into. There were boarded up shops, so close to the harbor she could taste the briny water when she opened her mouth. Republic City was the richest city in the damned world, and that's what they had.

Asami was walking back to her car when something from the balcony dropped in front of her and she screamed. It took her a moment to realize it was Korra, the familiar green and blue cap replaced with a white and red Fire Nation Volcanoes hockey cap.

She stood up straight and smiled at Asami, a purple bruise evident on her cheek, "I told you you'd fucking see me again."

Asami swallowed down her fear, then reached out and pulled Korra into a tight hug, rubbing her face into the smaller girl's hair. It was slightly coarse at the roots, thick but soft, and smoothed out into her long waves. Korra didn't hiss, but she stiffened, and Asami could sense something was wrong. Maybe Korra was unsure about their relationship?

She let her go, "What's wrong? I – You don't like hugs?"

Korra's smile became a little sheepish, "I do, I promise I do. It's my ribs that don't like them right now."

"Ribs?" Asami asked confused, then put a hand to cover her horrified mouth. "Were you beaten up?"

Her laugh was short, mirth shining in her eyes regardless, "Something like that."

"That's not funny," Asami hissed. "Violence is a serious thing and here you are, you're bhurt/b and bruised and I can't even b hug/b you, never mind anything else, and you're just laughing like the shit is funny or cute."

Korra didn't touch her, but eyed her unusually. "What's the matter?" She asked. "It's not a big deal, I just need to get home."

"It is a big deal," She snapped, "You need to go to a healer and get your ribs looked at."

"Asami," Korra said quietly, lips pursed, "I'm Water Tribe. We bare/b the healers."

Asami felt embarrassed, but didn't back down. Admitting defeat, even over something as stupid as this, was not an option.

"Fine," She replied. "But I'm going with you to make sure you don't pass out in an alley somewhere."

Korra suddenly seemed less confident, "What? No, you can't." Her hands balled into fists, then she tucked them behind her back.

Asami raised her eyebrows. So Korra was self-conscious about where she lived. That could be handled one of two ways: one; the fun, sexual way, in which Asami went down on her and Korra was suddenly pliant and able to agree to anything she said, two; she asked Korra about her insecurities because she was more than attracted to this damned girl, she was actually connected to her.

Choice two was the one that was easier to decide on. If not, then she'd default to choice one. "Why not?" Asami asked her. "What's wrong with me visiting?"

Korra was not a good liar. Her eyes drifted away, the muscles of her neck briefly moved, indicating her thinking. "I didn't clean today," She said, "And it was my turn."

Asami crossed her arms, "Your ribs are in pain and you've got a bruise on half your face. They'll give you a break for once."

Her companion chuckled, then held her ribs again, "You must not have met Aanak."

Asami repeated the word, confused.

"Oh," Korra repeated, then a blush crept on her face, "Sorry. It's Winter Tongue for grandmother."

"Aanak," She repeated, and Korra nodded.

Asami suddenly realized why Korra didn't want to take her to the apartment.

She smirked, "If I go with you, do I have to meet Aanak?"

"You do, actually," Korra said, sounding smug. "And you two aren't going to be able to communicate. She only speaks Winter Tongue."

Asami shrugged, "Then there's nothing to worry about."

Korra swallowed again, shrugging, "I guess not. Come on then."

Of course Korra wouldn't back down from a challenge. Of fucking course.

They walked to Korra's apartment, not very far from the bar, and watching Korra get up the stairs was a lesson in humility. Her apartment was on the fifth floor and when Korra finagled it open without a key, she learned where she'd gotten her dexterity from. Korra took a deep breath, so deep her shoulders swelled upwards, like a tidal wave, and opened the door. "Come on in," She gestured. Asami couldn't help but notice her eyes were nervous, liquid dark blue, like ocean steams, as she walked past her.

Rather than the interior – sparkling clean, Korra really was a terrible liar – or the used furniture and botched wall paper job, she saw the three little children on the floor, playing a game of spades with a well-worn deck of cards, and the old woman in the parka was smoking a cigarette, like all the old people she'd seen today.

"Aanak," Korra called, and the rest was suddenly unintelligible. The three children looked up, two with gray eyes and one with the same blue as Korra, the middle-sized boy, and then back down, suddenly shy.

The grandmother stood up, pinching the burning end of her cigarette with her fingers, possibly because there was no ash tray. She hugged Korra, then smacked her shoulder, and continued to smack her as she practically ran her into the bathroom, chattering away.

It was rather quiet without Korra, and she found herself looking at the little ones, with some of the same rather androgynous features that Korra had. One boy had the same mouth, the thin eyebrows. The taller boy had her eyelashes and bone structure around his hands. The youngest, a girl, had the same jaw line under her baby fat, and Asami found herself warming up to them. "Hi," She said, "I'm Asami. Pleased to meet you."

They seemed to have some kind of conversation with their eyes, then the girl said, "Aglakti Huntfar."

Huntfar. It was one of the ten most uncommon Water Tribe surnames, a tale of an ancestor's accomplishments and Huntfar could mean deep in the ocean, far across the ocean, or even onto another continent, and the most common was Swimdeep, sometimes spelled Swumdeep if the recorder was particularly literal. Asami knew that from her studies, but had never met anyone like this.

"Iluq," The taller boy said, fiddling with his card again.

"I am Chu," The middle one said, then burst out, eagerly, rising onto his knees so he could see her better, "Are you dating Korra?"

"Chu," Iluq hissed. "Shush."

He scowled deeply, "What? Are you Aama and Aata now that you tell me shut up and do what I am told? Are you Aanak?"

Iluq's face burned and Asami felt terrible, as she was the start of the conversation, and Iluq glanced at her, then said something fast-paced and snappish to Chu in Winter Tongue. She could tell now because it was a sharp feeling language. Not rough, as if everything was aggressive, but sharp, like a constant reprimand. Even hearing it made her ears burn. But they didn't talk like Korra did, like her mouth was full of broken glass and she was seconds away from dripping blood onto the floor.

Aanak exited the bathroom, soaked with water, and clucked at them. They resumed their positions on the floor, though now Iluq and Chu threw dark looks at one another. Aanak reached out for Asami, and held her face tightly with her bony hand, eyeing her from one angle to another, then moving to grip Asami's wrists and pull her arms away from her body. Asami stayed still, despite feeling uncomfortable with the examination. Aanak made a sound, then let go of her wrist to grip her face and pull her down to stare into her eyes. The grandmother stared into her eyes, a brilliant blue, then huffed and let her go, going back to her seat. The children stayed quiet, and Asami was regretting her adventurous choice when Korra poked her her head out and said, "Asami, come here really quick?"

Asami went over to her and Korra wrapped her long fingers around Asami's wrists. Her hands were warm, solid, and she brought Asami to her room. It was neat, if sparsely occupied. There was a set of drawers, each with a sticker on it, and three cots lay on the floor. There was a small pile of baseball caps near Korra's red guitar. There were other person effects, but they didn't seem to be hers.

"You really like baseball caps," Asami noted.

Korra shrugged, "It gives me something to do."

Korra sat on the cot closest to the window, possibly hers, and Asami sat across from her. The hard set to her shoulders was a little softer, a little less cautious as she reached for her guitar and pulled it close to her, settling it firmly with her hands cradling the body of it.

The red guitar seemed something Korra was comfortable talking about and so Asami ventured to ask, "How long have you had it?"

Korra thought, eyes squinted a little, then said, a soft smile playing on her lips. "About four years. I was walking down the street, and there was this guy standing around with her. He wasn't playing her or anything, just standing there with her next to him. I was eating something, a hotdog or sushi roll I think, and I guess he was hungry, because he looked at me and said if I gave him whatever, I'd get the guitar. So I gave it to him and he handed me the guitar. She was pretty beat up and ugly, but I went into this pawn shop and asked about her and the owner said if I did inventory for like six months, she'd fix her up. So I did inventory for six months, and the owner got her buffed out, stringed, tuned; pretty much everything."

Asami smiled a little at the story, "Wow, that's so cool. Do you still talk to the pawn shop owner?"

Korra's smile dimmed, and then dropped completely. "No," She murmured, focusing more on the guitar, plucking strings and running her thumb along the pick plate. "She was killed about a year ago. I was, um, I was walking towards the shop, just to say hi, and I heard the shots and next thing I knew the police were pulling up and taking the killer away. She um, she died instantly."

"Oh," Asami said, not knowing what else to say. What did you say in a situation like that?

Korra shrugged again, her shoulders tight, "Yeah. It's just another street story, don't worry about it. A girl like you," She continued, forcing some lightness into her voice, "you probably don't want to hear about any of that."

"I do," She found herself saying. "If I get to learn about you, of course I do."

Korra smiled a little, a slight twist of her lips, and said, "It only counts if I get to learn about you too."

"Okay," Asami said.

"Okay," Korra said, slowly. Her tongue seemed obscene in her mouth, curling over her teeth, pink and lolling, then revealing them again like a wolf's sharp canines before the slaughter.

They didn't get the chance to say anything else as the door opened and in tumbled the two boys from the band, whose names she couldn't remember; the burly Earth Nation boy and the thinner, serious Fire Nation boy. She was suddenly jealous. They lived here? They got to see Korra every day; they got to live with her and her family?

"Oh," The younger one said, his green eyes wide. "We're sorry, come on, Mako."

Asami smiled politely, "Its fine. We were just talking."

Korra puffed her cheeks out, almost pouting, but didn't say anything to the contrary.

Everything was quiet, for a moment, then the younger boy said, voice cracking with excitement, "You were at the bar the other night!"

"Yeah," She replied, then added, "You guys really were great."

"Thanks," He said, running his fingers through his hair. She couldn't decide if he was trying to be cute or if it really was just something he did as a nervous habit and put it aside. She was here for Korra, now, but Korra didn't seem like she was willing to share now. She was fiddling with her guitar, playing light chords, obviously uncomfortable with this clash of her life.

Korra continued to play and Asami watched her as the boys talked quietly. She wondered if they were brothers. She wondered if they were related, if this was Korra's family, if anything was real besides Korra's strumming fingers and hungry, snarling mouth. Asami watched Korra for another hour or so, watching her lead into a song, then another and another, progressively more aggressive, like if she didn't she'd hurt something. Maybe she would.

The brothers had stopped talking, the younger one reading a book and the older one seemingly napping, so she whispered, "Hey, Korra."

Korra looked up at her and blinked twice, hard, then said, "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna head home," She said.

"Oh," Korra replied. She worried her bottom lip, then said, "Okay. Want me to walk you to your car?"

"Sure," Asami replied.

Korra stood, then said, "Bolin, I'll be back in a little while."

"Okay," Bolin replied absently.

They stepped out of the room, then into the living room, where the children were eating raw fish and sea weed off of paper plates.

"We don't eat rice," Korra whispered to her. "Aanka won't allow it. She just barely lets us eat bread."

"Why?" Asami asked.

"It's not from the Old Land. Meat and vegetables, however little, she understands. Grains, she doesn't."

Asami nodded, then jumped in surprise as a small woman opened a door and came in.

"Oh," She said, her gray eyes large, "Hello."

Asami smiled stiffly. She was just meeting all of Korra's family today, and she wondered if that was why Korra didn't want her there initially.

"Mama," Korra said, "This is my friend Asami. Asami, Mama."

They shook hands, and Asami saw that Korra had inherited her father's hands, large and sure, rather than her mother's small hands.

"You can call me Senna or Mama," Senna said, then rolled her eyes towards a sheepish looking Korra, "All of this one's friends tend to call me Mama, though."

Asami swallowed a lump in her throat, "Not a problem, then." She hesitated, feeling the words clinging to her breastbone, then breaking out, "Mama."

"I have to get her home, Mama," Korra said. Senna nodded, then hugged Korra and said, "Be safe." She smiled again at Asami, then was swarmed by the little ones.

The teenage girls left the apartment. The walk was quiet, as Korra didn't seem inclined to talk much, and Asami couldn't think of what to say either. The easy camaraderie of earlier had disappeared, and they were approaching a broken street light when Asami decided she wanted it back.

"My mom died when I was very young," She said, not knowing what to expect, but feeling her chest get tighter and tighter. "There was a break-in and it was only the two of us. She put me in the closet and tried to call the police, but they were fire benders, and," She cleared her throat, looking at her feet, the difference of her leather Oxford loafers to Korra's scuffed black Converse, then veritably whispered, her lungs imploding onto themselves, "they set her on fire."

"Jesus fuck," Korra breathes out, like a sigh, but a thousand times more feeling, and she was suddenly in an extremely warm hug. She buried her face in Korra's hair, clinging to the back of her shirt. Korra didn't whisper or murmur platitudes, just hugged her tight, like this was her tragedy, like this was her mother.

They stayed like that, pressed together, until Asami could breathe again, smell the harbor not far away, smell Korra's hair, like fresh earth after a hard rain, like a campfire made of driftwood. Asami breathed in her hair a moment longer, then gently disengaged. There were tears shining in her eyes, making the blue brighter, more exquisite somehow, and she couldn't help leaning down and kissing her, tasting the salt of her mouth and then the beautiful sensation of her slippery tongue entering Asami's mouth. They made out for a little while, then they parted, pressing their foreheads together.

"Your eyes are so pretty," Asami whispered, stealing more kisses, putting some of the happiness aside for later.

Korra lifted her arms, wrapping them around Asami's neck, her long fingers digging into the hair at the nape of Asami's neck.

"Yours are gorgeous too," She murmured, then licked at the corner of Asami's mouth.

Things were going to get hot and heavy, and Asami couldn't even care, didn't want to care, but knew that her father was probably wondering where she was, and she was twenty minutes from the financial district, where they had their own apartment building.

"I've gotta get home," she replied, and Korra sighed against her, "Okay."

They parted again, and Asami snagged Korra's hand about midway down the block, just to touch her. Korra's smile was almost shy, as they approached Asami's car, and after Asami was in safely and securely, Korra kissed her again, most of her upper body in the open window.

"Mmmm," Asami nearly moaned when they parted, her fingers still in Korra's hair. "Fuck, you're such a good kisser."

Korra's grin was razor sharp, but she didn't say anything, perhaps her only concession to humility ever.

Her grin softened and then dropped, until her face was straight, almost hilariously serious, as she said, "Good night, Asami."

Asami's face turned somber as well, letting the hair go, "Good night, Korra."

Korra walked slowly across the street, then stood against the wall, a picture of nonchalance with her arms folded and face blank. She took a moment to pull out a cigarette and a lighter to take a deep drag. God, she just looked so effortlessly ibcool./ib/

"She's going to destroy me," Asami murmured to herself, a smile edging onto her mouth, and couldn't bring up a sense of dread to accompany it. She just knew that if Korra destroyed her, she'd rain just as much chaos onto Korra's life.

Asami was pulling away from the curb when the possible happened.

Another car came careening down the block, spitting wild bullets onto her side of the street, the riders screaming obscenities into the night air.

"Asami!" Korra screamed, and was already moving, was already halfway across the street, when she realized she wouldn't get there, would fail another person. And that was when the iim/ipossible happened, at least to Asami. A wall of Earth surrounded her car, putting her firmly out of danger's hands, and then down again when the rain of gunshot was down the block. Their car was suddenly up, up, up, on a tall pillar of dirt, compacting them inside, balanced precariously out of any harm's way. They were screaming and pounding on the doors, locked in.

And the impossible part? The impossible part was Korra in a bastardized Earth Bending motion, lowering the Earth wall around Asami's car, slowly and carefully, then all the way down.

Korra was trembling, Asami saw, even from her seat, but so was she. She couldn't drive, couldn't move, could barely breathe at watching Korra do Earth Bending when she was a Water Bender. She was an Earth Bender, but every member of her family was brown-skinned and her last name was Huntfar and her very blue eyes were like arctic oceans, and Asami was suddenly gasping and crying, tearing her way out of her seatbelt and car. Korra was standing still, staring blankly at the earth sticking out of the concrete, but she was in motion again as Asami threw herself at Korra, practically molding each other together as they clung to one another, breathless and sobbing dry tears.

"Oh my God," Asami was barely saying, "Oh sweet Jesus."

Korra was also mumbling, but her eyes were slammed shut and she was rocking back and forth, head bowed. It took her a moment to realize that Korra – fearless Korra, screw-up Korra, Korra of the guitar and the long fingers, and the desperate kisses, Korra the bfucking Avatar/b, she'd fucked the fucking bAvatar/b – Korra was praying.

* * *

They were doing a lot of hugging on the streets, Korra noted absently. She couldn't help herself. Her biggest secret – bthe/b biggest secret of the known world because The White Lotus claimed that they had the fucking Avatar, he was just in training or something – and they were hugging. She was praying and didn't even know to what, just knew she was pleading and hoping that this wouldn't get out; that no one would find out. Was she praying to the Old Land or the city? Which one would save her? She ran her hand along the dips and curves of Asami's spine, barely hidden under her shirt, staying tethered to the real world. She was so scared, so fucking scared, and all she could do was murmur about how sorry she was, how she hoped this was hidden, how she hoped Asami wouldn't hate her, wouldn't think her a liar, and she didn't even know why.

Asami pressed Korra's face to her neck and Korra breathed her in, and Korra realized, helplessly, bitterly, that she was crying, was sobbing in between her whispered pleas to whatever would listen, the old gods of her home, the new gods of this city, whatever words Asami could understand, to take away the fear, to make the men unable to identify her. Water Bender girl in a cap wasn't much of a descriptor but Lin would know, or at least suspect, and with Lin, the council, and then the world. She didn't want to be the Avatar, she didn't want this pressure.

Aang was in her head, was murmuring platitudes and saying that it wasn't so terrible, but she couldn't bring herself to believe him. He couldn't exactly say that everything was terrible and filled with grief and that she'd outlive everyone she knew if she had an average Avatar lifespan, but she knew; she knew when he let things slip, when she would read about them in school. She knew that it was terrible because she'd been bfree/b, so free, so happy, and now she was going to be in a cage, was going to be examined, was going to be taken away.

Asami was solid in front of her, Asami was there now, but she couldn't be there, couldn't see this, and Korra forced herself to stop crying and being a weakling, not through meditation but sheer will.

She was gulping air, but she stood straight and said, tears still in her eyes, "Asami, go home. Please, please, go home. I'll find you later, I'll tell you everything then, but when the cops come, it's not going to be pretty. Please, go home."

Asami blinked hard, licking her lips and she nodded, "Okay. I – do you promise?"

Korra nodded, listening for cops, could feel the cops in their metal suits down the block from the vibrations, even through her Chucks, and said, "Yes, yes, I promise you, I'll go to your house or your apartment, wherever you live, and I'll see you afterwards."

Asami nodded again, then snatched another kiss, just in case, and ran to her car, then went into the car and left, tail lights flashing in the darkness.

Korra thought about it, about leaving and sneaking into her room and not doing much of anything but waiting for the police to show up at her door step, and she was many things but not a coward. Korra leaned against the wall and waited, but found herself still shaking and took another cigarette out the pack, and with her lighter in hand, lit her cigarette and took a deep, soothing breathe.

She was still smoking when Lin and Jung, the normal officers, came out and Jung, rather lackadaisically, put the criminals down, and then wrapped them in metal binds when they stepped out the car.

"Ayo!" One yelled, flames sprouting from his mouth. "We ain't the ones who Earthbended a whole block! We're Agni Kai!"

"Agreed," Jung said, in his deadpan voice, "But you are the ones who robbed two stores and shot up a whole block, so this is standard procedure. Please wait until the van comes to collect you."

Lin, on the other hand, immediately walked over to Korra, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Korra tried to smile charmingly, "I decided not to give you a chase today."

She raised her eyebrows, "Clarify. Now."

Korra shrugged, then made a gesture to encompass the block, "I did it."

"You did what?" Lin asked, exasperated. "Just tell me, you ignorant fuck, before I slam your face into the ground." Police brutality was the least of Republic City's problems, but Korra was starting to think that Lin had a crush on her.

The teenager took a deep, solid breath, and then said, "This" before lifting a chunk of earth out of the ruined area where Asami had been.

"The fuck?" Lin said, attempting to move the same block. Korra kept herself solid and Lin's bending proved very ineffectual at first. Korra released her hold, feeling the strain it made on her stomach and chest. Most people thought bending was effortless, was just a slight variation in genetics and mind power, and it was to an extent, but never effortless. Practice and training and strength building were essential, and too long, Korra had depended solely on her Water Bending, the push and pull motions of her own lifeblood and the call of Mother Ocean and Father Moon. She'd have to learn over again what it took to lift boulder after boulder in succession and how to make fire that was so very gentle it wouldn't singe the hair of a newborn and perhaps, just perhaps, winds that lifted buildings but could also make a leaf dance.

Jung's response was more what she could see, "You're the motherfucking Avatar."

Korra nodded, jaw tight, "Yep. I'm the motherfucking Avatar."

"I don't believe this shit," Lin muttered, then sound, louder, "I've arrested you four or five times and at any moment you could have been out doing, fuck, I don't know, peace talks out in the Earth Kingdom or stopping gang violence or fucking hanging out with the crowned Fire Lord? You could be out there doing any of that shit and you're here, dicking around in the slums and projects of Republic City?"

"I sure am," Korra agreed, rather passively.

"You could be in the fucking lap of luxury and you're here?" Lin was starting to sound incensed, not just befuddled.

"I have to be," The teenager – no matter what anyone said, she was still a teenager, she was not some symbol, some bridge between worlds or whatever cockamamie bullshit story that they'd try to give her, she was a fucking human being – replied. "I live here, I live with my family, and what kind of person leaves their family in the slums while they go hang out on private islands with private tutors and people that own fucking nations? There's never been an Avatar that lived with their family, and I was not going to be another statistic."

Lin crossed her arms. "Fine. And what if I arrest you? What if I arrest you and send you off to The White Lotus to be trained and tutored and primped and all that shit? What do you do then?"

Korra blinked at her, then smiled widely, and whatever her smile looked like – a wolf's teeth in the moonlight, claws digging into graves, the rats in the sewers, if the city itself was visible, shining from the spaces in her teeth – it scared Lin and she looked away. "I'll come back," She said lightly, conversationally. "I'll come back, I'll find where you are, and I'll burn you to the ground."

Aang was a pacifist, and she could hear him clamoring for peace in her head, but Korra sure as Hell wasn't. Force would meet force. Her people were wolves, damn the new ways, and she'd sooner snag Lin's throat between her teeth and taste her hot blood than let them dictate what she would do.

"I'm going to report this to The White Lotus, tell them that they have the wrong person," Lin said, lacking bluster, almost scared of Korra, probably, and Korra nodded, walking down the block towards her house. Asami was safe, and so was her family, for now. She entered the apartment through the window again, and saw her mother was putting Iluq to sleep, meaning Chu and Aglakti were already in bed. Iluq always tried to stay awake, past dinner, but a bath and Mama's soft voice always put him to sleep.

Mama smiled at her, and then whispered, "Would you put him in his bed?"

Korra scooped him up, and then took him into the room. He smelled clean, like soap, and he made a soft, sleepy sound as she put him down and covered him with a blanket. Grandmother was already snoring and she went back into the kitchen, where Mama was sipping at some tea.

"You know," She said, rather absently, "When we were in the Old Land, we would get tea leaves late. They would be dry and crunched before we put them in water, but the tea always tasted so good. Now, it is boiled leaf juice."

"What is the difference?" Korra asked.

Senna thought. "Caring," she finally mused. "They do not care which leaves they pick, so long as the leaves are there. This is an age of productivity, not the quality of the product."

Korra sat across from her at the small table, their feet brushing, and Senna sipped again before saying, "This Asami girl. Do you like her?"

Korra thought, "She is interesting. I am not sure if this is something serious or not, but we have a connection."

"Connection?" Senna asked. "Would you explain?"

"We have a physical connection," Korra said. She was not afraid to say this to her parents, they both knew she was not a virgin and enjoyed sex. "But it exceeds that. I like talking with her and walking with her and she is – intelligent. Not very sensitive, not like you and Papa, but she is not callous. She is awkward with her emotions, like she is not used to using them or seeing them."

Mama hummed. "There are very many people here like that. I clean after them, and they are unsure whether to be nice or not, and have trouble saying simple things like, 'I am happy.' And 'I am sad.' They are too polite, they don't talk about their emotions, and when it comes time to, they are awkward and get angry."

"Anger is a destructive emotion," Korra said, from experience, from the legends. "Wrath is better."

"Mmmm," Mama replied, in agreement. Wrath was righteous, would stay in place, and could be controlled. Anger ran rampant, was a forest fire. Wrath was the emotion most often talked about, in time for revenge and hatred and grudges, in the Old Land's stories. They thought it was pathetic, as a whole, to be so filled with anger that planning was forgotten. Revenge could not be exacted fully without any planning.

Mama sipped her tea again, and then looked out the window, "Cousin Sun has set fully, and the stars are out."

That was Mama's gentle reminder that as close to the night as she was, as much as she craved it and wanted to feel it, she needed sleep.

"Yes, Mama," She said, leaning forwards to kiss her goodnight. Mama's lips were soft, still warm from the tea, and they parted.

Korra showered, scrubbing hard at her body, then stepped out and pushed the water off of her and down the drain. The brothers weren't paying attention to her when she stepped in and put on a set of clean pajamas. Quarters were so close that modesty could be well forgotten. She wondered what Asami was doing, where she was, and reminded herself to find her tomorrow.

She slept hard, releasing her anxiety in the night air, and awoke with Grandmother's hawking. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, then put on a pair of clean jeans and shoes as her siblings were hustled into the bathroom, then breakfast, then getting dressed. She walked Aglakti to the daycare center and paid the weekly fee. Korra could hear the whispers the entire time and told herself to go find Asami. She knew who Asami was, bwhere/b Asami was, knew it with a certainty that would have frightened another but she knew what it was; the spirits of the city were still spirits. All spirits were made from the essence of life, just as bending was, and some spirits were over certain things, like forests or glaciers or mountains, brought forth from the life that lived there. The city was something different. It was the overabundance of life that made all of the spirits. Some of the woodland spirits did, sad and discouraged looking animals, or the fierce whale spirit who she'd had to sooth in the Old Lands as his patrons were hunted and killed with no sacrifices, just sport. The city spirits would not appear, but whisper into her ear, murmur to her in the nights when things went wrong and she'd had to bite her knuckles to keep from springing up and leaving, wandering her city for the transgression. The city demanded certain things; sacrifices and protection and blood, and she was the only one to hear it.

In return for her protection, for her caring, Republic City sometimes sent her little gifts. Information, mostly, but sometimes a food item or money, a hundred Yuan note stuck in a drain pipe. Reminding herself of what the city had done, Korra placed a hand on a brick building, then searched for an unbroken bottle. The alcohol would keep it sterile, so she broke it against the wall, just below her hand, but no piece touched her. She pressed the sharp end to her palm and dribbled a few drops of blood onto the alley floor. She licked her hand and let her spit heal the cut before resuming her journey.

Asami's home was a penthouse in the design district, blocks away from the financial district. It would be guarded and she could not bully her way in, but she could probably bullshit it.

The security guard was awake and cheerful until he saw her and his very demeanor became more professional. Korra tried not to feel offended, told herself fuck it, and glared at him. She wasn't exactly high class, yeah, and sure, rich kids didn't come in brown, but she could have been a friend or whatever.

"May I ask who you are?" He asked.

"Korra Huntfar," She said, cracking her neck, using the motion to check the entire lobby for escape routes and people.

"Spell, please?"

"K-O-R-R-A space H-U-N-T-F-A-R."

He wrote it down in painstakingly small handwriting and asked, "May I see your ID?"

Korra shrugged, "Don't have one."

He paused, "Oh. Do you have anything that'll prove what your name is?"

Korra wondered if summoning the rats of the city or asking the power lines to speak for her would go over well. No, probably not.

"Nope," She smiled cheerfully. "Would you call the Sato's, apartment 4309?"

He called and he conversed quietly for a moment before letting her up the elevator. Korra was rather satisfied with her self-restraint but decided to be a dick and murmured to the spirit of the camera, "Short this one out, please."

There was a small spark as they broke and as payment, Korra licked her finger and rubbed it onto the wall. The elevator was fast, and soon pinged as it reached the top floor. She left the elevator and walked to the Sato's, where she knocked.

Asami opened the door and Korra swallowed before smiling, "Hello."

Asami pulled her into the apartment, Korra nearly tripping over her shoes, "Are you insane?" She hissed, pulling her further in, all the way to her room. "How'd you even get here? Are you in trouble?"

Korra smirked when they were inside, "Asami, 'Trouble' is my middle name. If I don't find it, it'll find me, and I much prefer these things on my own terms."

"What happened?" Asami insisted and Korra shrugged, faking nonchalance, feeling panic start to bubble low in her gut, and forced herself to put it aside, put it where her anger went, so they would morph to help her wrath. "I told Lin the truth, she said she'd report me to the White Lotus, I said I'd burn her very existence off the map if they even thought about separating me from my family, I went to sleep, and I came here."

Korra looked around and saw only two windows, both more decorative than useful, and thought that the room was overfilled. It was probably what a normal room, where one had their own space, was supposed to look like, but sharing a room with Bolin and Mako had made each of the three absolute masters of Spartan decorations.

"And how'd you make it here?" She asked, sitting on her bed, arching an eyebrow.

Korra's smirk returned and she moved to invade Asami's personal space, make herself bigger and more determined, allowing her desire to shine through her very skin. "Because," She murmured, "When I fucking want something, I fucking get it. I am not to be fucked with."

Asami raised an eyebrow, not backing down, and some magic of her own was suddenly sparking along in her green eyes, in the curve of her mouth and freckles, and she replied, putting her hands on the handles of Korra's waist, "You're not to be fucked with, that I understand. But are you to be fucked?"

Asami was placing gentle, open mouthed kisses on Korra's cheek and neck when Korra warned her, "I thought you wanted the truth. I'm not gonna say no to sex, but I don't think you'll remember to ask any of your questions later."

"Arrogant," Asami mumbled, licking under her jaw.

"It's well founded," Korra replied.

"Right," Asami parted rather reluctantly, trailing a deliberate sigh on the wet patch of Korra's neck, and leaned back on her bed.

"When did you find out you were the Avatar?" Asami asked.

Korra laid next to her, so close that their noses were almost touching, "I was very young, too young to remember. I remember being told not to Fire Bend or Earth Bend around my other family members, and I've never done it in front of anyone besides my family and Mako and Bolin besides you."

She smiled at Korra, a little shy, a little bashful, and touched her hand, brushing her knuckles against the back of Korra's hand.

"Why do all the reports say they have the Avatar, then?" Asami asked her.

Korra shrugged, "Because I'm not up to standards? I'm too selfish, too prideful, too arrogant? They have their reasons and I have mine."

"I think you'd make a good Avatar," Asami insisted. "You are the rightful Avatar and wherever they found that boy, they need to put him back. Isn't he Fire Nation, anyways?" She'd never paid that much attention in history class, but then, that hadn't been the only class that'd allowed her to graduate on time, like Korra and Mako.

"His grandmother was Water Tribe," Korra replied. "Probably a slave, but they won't tell you that. We had to learn about him in history class. Li-Gai Tsu Fong the first of his name, first born heir to the Fire Nation throne."

Korra laughed, then, and said, "They're going to have a hell of a time explaining when he's "realized" that he can't bend a drop of water or move a pebble."

"What about Air Bending?" Asami asked, and couldn't hide her eagerness. "Can you do that?"

She shook her head, "Nope. Air Benders are rare, I couldn't find a teacher if I tried. There's more that follow their religion, but it's not the religion I'm concerned with."

"Are you religious?" Asami asked.

Korra bit her lip, thinking, and said, slowly, feeling everything out, "It's not in the traditional way that most of the other nations are. In the Old Lands, we prayed, yes, but it was not to a singular God, but each spirit as its own deity. Father Moon cannot control the whales and Mother Ocean cannot control the wolves. Only the whale spirits and the wolf spirits control them, just as only the tree spirits control a tree and the spirit of winter controls the ice and snow. Each being has its own place and the place is with its own."

"And now, when the whales and wolves are gone?" Asami asked. She was not being insensitive, Korra realized, but it was again, the very awkwardness of these city dwellers manifest.

"I pray to the city," Korra said simply, staring at her with frank, honest eyes. "And sometimes, the city responds."

* * *

Asami actually wasn't sure what to make of Korra's statement. Praying to the city was something she icould/i understand, praying to the tangible and unforgettable. People still talked about Ba Sing Se, for Christ's sake, and that'd been taken in a siege almost two hundred years ago. But for the city to respond? It seemed lunacy. Still, she'd believed Korra before that, Korra had saved her life, had found her twice in as many days, was the fucking Avatar, and there was absolutely no reason to NOT believe her.

"Okay," Asami said, and tried to lock away her skepticism. Korra was already shaping up to be the person to take a look at your doubts and break them in the street before fighting on top of them. "What does the city tell you?"

She shrugged, eyes drifting away slowly, "What doesn't it tell me? I learn about where something is, what's going on, sometimes who's doing what. It's all up to the spirits. They tell me, I do what they want. It's a pretty simple relationship."

"What do you believe in?" Korra asked her, face embarrassed. She probably felt bad for pretty much dominating the conversation, but Asami was still curious, burning with it, really, to learn everything about her.

She shrugged, "My mom was Christian and my dad still makes me go to Mass, so I suppose we're Catholic. I'm not a firm believer, though, and the city seems a lot more of a solid idea than some huge guy in the sky."

Korra shook her head, "It is not just the city, but every life."

Her confusion must have shown on her face, as Korra further clarified, "Life is a great, beautiful thing, from the smallest leaf to the biggest. Every life is just as sacred and you have to do what you can to make sure you keep your life. You hunt and you sacrifice something to the spirits – your thank you for allowing this creature to fall into your hands. The spirits in the Old Land cannot follow when their patrons are still there, but there are spirits here, filled with emotion and made from the absolute belief people have in them. The absolute belief is what fuels them and, from what I understand, this God many believe in."

The absolute awe that Korra spoke with made shivers run down Asami's back and she asked, "What sacrifices do you make?"

"Blood, sweat, spit, most bodily fluids, really, sometimes alcohol or cigarette ash," Korra listed. "Just a few drops and your prayer is listened to, is sometimes taken into account."

Asami nodded. Sacrifice was typically found in religion and she could understand that clearly.

Korra rolled onto her back, and stretched her arms above her. Asami noticed, rather suddenly, that her skin was the same brown tone overall. Only her pink lips and the blue-blue of her eyes were different, like pinpricks of light in a tunnel. Asami swallowed, then leaned over, one arm over Korra's torso and the other holding her up, and kissed Korra.

Korra responded back eagerly, enveloping her, her very desire singing the hairs of Asami's nose, and they kissed until Asami could feel her arm trembling and she rolled onto her side. Korra followed, nearly burrowing into her, pressing her hot hands to Asami's back, her palms radiating heat and the small callouses rubbing against her deliciously. She felt her breath catch as Korra pulled her closer, then one hand drifted down, thumb pressing down faintly on the back dimples, then further, further, cupping her ass under her underwear.

"Is this okay?" Korra murmured.

"If you take your hand away," Asami responded, heart beating a double time beat in her chest, "I'm going to kill you."

Korra let out a faint laugh, then slanted her mouth over Asami's again, stealing her breath, her very heartbeat, and moved her hand so she was cupping Asami's pussy, fingers sliding in her wetness.

Asami shuddered and her hands in response threaded deeply into Korra's lush hair. Korra thrust her middle and ring finger into Asami's sex and felt the gasp on her lips. She thrust slowly, experimentally twisting her fingers, secure in not moving, knowing they had all the time in the world.

"Harder," Asami murmured against her lips, thrusting her hips into the movement.

Korra thrust harder into her, then told her, "Up, get up."

Asami rolled away and Korra pulled her pants and underwear down, tangling them around her ankles, then her own jeans. Korra then immediately dived between her legs, lifting them up, over her shoulders, and Asami tightened them instinctively around her head at the first warm lick. Korra ate pussy like no one she'd ever met. She ate like she kissed; desperately, hungrily, keeping her lips and tongue soft but ever active, circling, sucking, licking, making soft sounds against her and thrusting her face even further in, like she'd be able to bury her mouth inside of Asami.

Then she inserted her fingers, pushed up twice against her g-spot and Asami was off like a rocket.

"Fuck," She gasped, fingers tangled in Korra's hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Korra was sucking on her and Asami arched off the bed as she came.

It took her a while to come down and when she did, she was naked. And Korra was naked. And Asami would be damned if she didn't get to touch all of that twice.

She pushed Korra onto her back, feeling muscle under her skin, and did not immediately go down on her like she wanted to. She kissed her neck and collarbones, sucking her shoulders, breathing in her slightly musky scent and budding arousal, like some chime in her head, at least on Asami's end. "You smell good," Asami muttered to her, but Korra wasn't listening, just hooked her legs around Asami's waist. Asami rubbed her sides soothingly, just to balance out her descending to Korra's stomach and sucking on her naval, then dipping her tongue inside of her belly button and nipping at her skin there.

She went further down, to her prominent hip bones. Korra's hips curved outwards perfectly, and the indents of her hips was just barely visible. Asami licked them one after another and could inhale Korra's scent more. She took deep breathes, almost gulping it down, and moaned at the scent. Heady and rich, Asami couldn't handle anymore and practically buried herself in Korra's pussy. Her folds were dripping and pink, almost stunningly so, and her clit was poking out of the hood like it was demanding to be licked and sucked. Asami would listen. She licked and sucked and let her eyes close, just to feel around, and kept her ears perked for Korra's sounds. She found a small spot just to the left of her vagina that made Korra groan and moan and push her closer, and when she licked the very edge of the opening, Korra's very breath caught.

But when she exhaled, all hell broke loose.

She could feel more than hear the rumble of the street below, the hissing of the fire hydrants outside as it exploded and there was a definite surge of heat in the room. So that was what it was like when the most powerful Bender in the world had an orgasm. And a damn good one, Asami thought rather smugly. Chaos was going on outside and rather then getting up once her legs stopped shaking, Korra yawned and rolled onto her side. Asami couldn't help but laugh, "Really? You probably should get up and fix your mess."

Korra shrugged, "It's nothing they can't handle."

Asami rolled her eyes and pulled the sheets up and over herself. She had class today but it was nothing she couldn't miss for the day. Korra was sprawled near the foot of the bed and she prodded her with a toe, watching it dig into her side briefly. "Get up here," She demanded, and Korra groaned before crawling under the sheets. Asami pressed her cold feet to Korra's legs and Korra scooted closer, pressing her nose to Asami's shoulder. Sirens were going off outside, probably all around the area, and Korra was murmuring, "You smell really good."

One of Korra's arms wrapped around her middle and Asami threaded her fingers through Korra's longer digits. "Your hands are so nice," She replied, instead, and Korra flexed her fingers, bringing Asami's along for the ride as they stroked her stomach.


End file.
